


Song of the Sorceress

by Lusksinger



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Bard - Freeform, Death, Drow, F/F, Fantasy, Half Elf, Lesbian Character, Loss, Love, Lute - Freeform, Magic, Music, Romance, Sorceress, panpipe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-12 19:23:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11743554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lusksinger/pseuds/Lusksinger
Summary: Roshan is a young half-elf living on her own in a small village called Gilan. She is often ridiculed for being a half-elf rather than either human or elf and is ashamed of her misshapen ears. Roshanara tends to keep them covered with her hair so that no one can poke fun at them or point them out in any way. In the mountains, their lives an equally lonely drow girl named Lamya who struggles with fitting in among her people where kindness is viewed as weakness. Lamya frequently slips away from Masuleh (The City in the Mountains) to play her panpipe in isolation. The two girls cross paths and become close to one another. Though Lamya knows of Roshan's wild magic, she has never witnessed it in its out-of-control state.*~*~*~*Note: This is the backstory for my character Roshanara: a wild magic sorceress.





	Song of the Sorceress

Harsh actions and cruel words sent Roshanara running out into the night, leaving only a small trail of unnoticeable tears in her wake. They caught on the bent grass like small bits of broken glass. The little half-elf girl barreled through the trees as thorns and low-hanging branches caught at her clothing and tore at her arms and face. Small streams of red seeped from the tiny wounds, but she pressed on in spite of them. She collapsed at the foot of a tree whose roots seemed to tear from the earth, as though it longed to walk free from the confines of the forest it was apart of. Oh, how Roshan understood its desire to be free. While freeing small bits of twigs and leaves from her dark hair, her fingers lingered on the tops of her ears. Though obviously raised, they lacked the points of a true elf. Her nails dug into the flesh and tugged at them. She hated her stupid ears. It was a constant proclamation of what she wasn't to the outside world. Not an elf. Not a human. Did she truly belong anywhere?

While Roshan steadied her sobs the sound of distant music reached her ears. Slowly, she lowered her hands from their death-grip position on her ears. Clearer now, the sound of a distant drum and pipes. Was that...laughter? Unconcerned with her injuries and torn garments, she made her way through the trees towards the sound. When she hit the edge of the woods she stared at the edge of the mountains. The music was closer now and Roshan could easily hear laughter between the notes of song. After running back and forth along the edge of the mountain it became obvious she would need to climb. Tying the skirts of her dress around her waist, Roshanara made her way up a small section of rock. As far as she knew, no one lived out this way. What could possibly be gained by living on the mountain itself? Down in the valley were beautiful lakes and fresh fruit trees, but the mountain had always looked dead and dry to her eyes. Yet the music and the party-chatter were all too real in her ears so she kept climbing. The rough stone continually made contact with her legs and knees, scraping off the tender flesh and adding to her discomfort -- but the sounds were so close now. She had to almost be there.

After what seemed an eternity, Roshan pulled herself up with shaky arms to a flattened rock and took a brief rest. While panting her eyes caught sight of firelight up ahead. Crawling carefully forward with her body flat against the stones, she realized the ground had leveled off here. The rocks gave way to lush, green grass. Out in the clearing was a large bonfire with what looked like elves dancing and singing and laughing with one another. They all looked barely older than her, but far more wild. When they passed by the firelight she had to suppress a gasp. Their skin was dark like coal or the ash that remained after a fire had died out. Drow? She'd heard often of them but had never met or seen one before. Many of the drow were paired off either dancing, kissing, or joking with one another. In a corner a few wizards sat together laughing among themselves as they played about with the party attendents by casting basic spells to slap the bottoms of passing female drow or to tickle those who looked too up-tight. A few were doing illusions for the entertainment of others and not just themselves. What was she looking at here?

Movement to her right drew her attention away from the festivities. She barely caught a glimpse of silver before it vanished entirely. Slowly, she crept across the rocks towards the movement she'd seen. She heard the young drow girl before she saw her. When her head shot up from her knelt position, Roshan saw tears making their way down her grayed cheeks. Roshan expected hostility, but the stranger stayed motionless. Her knees were drawn to her chest tightly and her pink eyes remained unwavering on Roshan's face. Her silver hair in the moonlight may as well have been moonbeams come to life. Roashanara expected to be yelled at or at the very least quietly insulted and asked to leave, but neither happened. The young drow seemed to be hiding the way she herself had done only an hour or so ago and, for the first time, Roshan noticed the injuries on the other girl's skin. Unlike her own, they looked to be something she'd suffered at the hand of another.

"Are...you okay?" Roshan asked her in Elvish, the only tongue she knew they must share.

Her grip on her knees tightened and she looked away from the half-elf. "You're not supposed to be here."

Ignoring her comment, Roshan scooted close to her while ensuring they were well away from the firelight down below. "You're hurt."

"I am aware." she snarled back.

Realizing this was going nowhere, Roshan took a small breath and introduced herself, hoping the young drow would return an introduction in kind. To her relief, the girl whispered, "Lamya. My name is Lamya."

After several painstaking attempts, Roshan managed to learn from Lamya that she had been beaten. As the story went, Lamya exhibited too much kindness for the liking of her drow community. To teach her to not be so weak, they beat her viciously in the hopes of teaching her how to be cruel. Unsure how to respond to such puzzling news, Roshan instead asked about the party. From here they could hear the drums more than the conversations.

"It is nedeirra. Simply a dance for the younger drow. I was not..." Lamya paused, rubbing away some dried blood from her arm. "I did not wish to go."

"On the mountain?" the half-elf asked, confused. Lamya laughed in response.

"You do not get thrown on the street in a drunken heap if you are not near any streets...or any adults who dislike seeing their youths have a good time." Though her voice sounded tired, the tears on her cheeks had dried. Noticing Roshan's eyes closely focused on her face, she hid it away behind a curtain of silver hair. "And you, Roshanara? What brings you out this long distance?"

Slowly, Roshan fumbled through a half-hearted explanation of what her life was like. Never fitting in based on an aspect that she would forever be unable to change. As she spoke, Lamya slowly peered out from beneath her hair. She felt emotions that would get her another good beating if she made them known to anyone else, but with this half-elf she felt it safe. "I am sorry you get treated that way, Roshanara. You seem to deserve much better."

From their cramped ledge, the two girls talked long into the night. Lamya was captivated by the slightly rounded points of Roshan's ears and told her that she liked that they were different. How could someone love what she hated so much? Roshan sheepishly mentioned her love of Lamya's starlight hair and Lamya laughed, saying that it was an unusual shade. She herself was probably the singularly most annoying drow in their community for many reasons.

They parted ways an hour before the sun could rise. Roshan cautiously climbing down the incline to the forest and Lamya sliding down to the clearing where the fire had long since died and most drow were paired together in tight embraces or clutching their drink of choice to their chest. They agreed to meet that night in the woods before their parting. It gave each girl something to look forward to.

Their days went as could be predicted, but with one major difference. Though both were berated for their respective "short-comings", neither felt as trapped in their situations as usual. Neither girl felt like giving up or running away as they were prone to do. That one glimmer of hope come nightfall sustained them until they were back under the cover of night, giggling beneath the canopy of trees. Lamya began teaching the young half-elf the beginnings of the Undercommon language and Roshan gushed about her love for the music last night. It had made a beautiful backdrop to their night and she could tell the words had struck a chord in Lamya. When they parted that night, Lamya promised a gift for Roshan the following night.

*~*~*~*

The gift turned out to be a handcrafted wooden lute. "I made it myself," Lamya admitted as Roshan turned the instrument over in her hands with wide eyes. "It took the whole day, but I figured you could learn and play for us. If you wanted to, that is..." Roshan could have sworn she saw the grey skin tinged with the faintest hint of pink around Lamya's cheeks. Her lips were dark like charcoal and Roshan gently leaned forward to press her pale pink lips against them. Lamya, already at a loss for words, was silenced.

"Thank you, Lamya."

They lay back and rest in silence, watching the stars peek through the swaying tree branches, the backs of their hands gently brushing against one another between them though neither dared make a move. They separated later than usual, the sky turning faint pinks and purples as they rose from their grassy beds. When Roshan turned to make her way through the woods, Lamya pulled her back for another quick kiss. "I will see you tonight, Roshanara."

*~*~*~*

The girls agreed after their first week of meeting every single night that they should perhaps be more careful with their time together. They agreed to space the time out so as to not attract suspicion from those who already looked upon them unfavorably. While they were apart, Roshan spent her free time locked away from others learning the ways of the lute and composing a song for the drow who'd entranced her so deeply in such a short span of time.

When they'd meet, Lamya would continue her teachings of Undercommon and Roshan would show off how much she'd learned while messing about on the lute. After a few more weeks, and a few more stolen kisses, they moved away from the base of the mountain and instead to Gilan's smallest lake. Switching locations seemed important so that none could memorize travel patterns. Soon they were able to converse solely in the trade language back and forth while knelt at the water's edge. When Roshan played her lute, Lamya joined her with her pan flute. After a month of practice, Roshan felt she could finally share her song with Lamya. They agreed the night before to meet sooner than usual and Roshan asked if Lamya would mind if they made it more than just a usual meeting.

Looking at her with one arched silver brow, Lamya inquired as to what she meant.

"Just...a party. For the two of us." The blush in her cheeks was far easier to see than when Lamya blushed so.

With a gentle smile, the young drow agreed. "Of course."

*~*~*~*

For the entirety of the day, however, Roshanara felt fatigued. No matter what she did she felt entirely drained of energy and unable to move without feeling queasy. Several times she had to stop in mid-task to steady herself in her wooziness. Yet she struggled through the day, determined to share her song with Lamya that night. She paused only once to meditate for a few hours, but when she rose from her relaxed state she felt just as uneasy.

Out the window, the sun was setting. While the dying golden rays shone through the window casting shadows across her walls, Roshan gathered up her lute and whatever small amount of energy she contained before making the journey to the lake. The sun had not fully set when she reached their meeting place to find Lamya already there, her back turned to the half-elf.

Roshan stayed firmly in place, gazing at her from the short distance between them. Lamya's hair reached down her back but, tonight, it contained several small braids with delicate looking gold and silver beads woven in-between the strands. Though she still wore her usual brown boots and dirty travelers clothing, when the young drow woman turned to her Roshanara could only view her as a goddess. Her eyes sparkled like stars as the sun vanished from sight at last behind her silvered head. Roshanara couldn't be sure if she felt weak in the knees because of being so ill or if it was simply Lamya's beauty.

When it became obvious the half-elf was not going to move forward, Lamya gave a light chuckle and strode over to her, tucking a strand of brown hair behind the other girl's ear. "You still hide them, I see. I wish you would not." When Roshan did not reply, Lamya withdrew her hand, "Are you alright?"

Though Lamya knew about the other girl's surges, she'd never witnessed one herself. Roshan fell gently against her and muttered that she would be fine and the moment would pass. "I wanted to share something with you," she whispered up to her before standing up straight again. "Please, sit."

Still looking concerned, Lamya sat and waited as Roshanara readied her lute. "I wrote this song for you, Lamya." Roshan's vision kept going slowly in and out of focus, but her fingers had memorized the strings by now. She did not need her sight to play. Closing her eyes, her fingers began their dance across the strings. The young drow could not suppress her smile, watching Roshan's head gently sway with the music and her hair move back and forth with its movement. In her head, Roshan uttered a prayer to any god that might smile upon her this night -- please. Please let nothing bad happen. To accompany the song she'd prepared prestidigitation versions of other instruments, including Lamya's pan flute. Should she play without adding them in? Just in case?

She opened her eyes to gaze at Lamya's face and it was as if she were entranced by the song, or perhaps by her. Her smile melted away Roshan's fear and she began the basic spell. It happened so fast it barely seemed real. One moment there was music, the sounds of crickets, the gentle rustling of grass in the breeze. Her eyes had been locked on Lamya's and that lovely smile with her surrounded in the beauty of the moonlight. It had been perfect. The next moment her hands had lost their grip on her lute as the earth erupted around her feet, tossing her violently into the air. The sky was beneath her and the ground was high above as she was hurled through the air. She thought she heard Lamya scream, but the sound faded off as Roshan crashed into the lake. By the time she emerged, all was calm again. Leaves were gently falling to the ground around her, but a large crater had been gouged into the earth from the tree line all the way to the water's edge. Her eyes scanned the area frantically among the broken branches for Lamya.

The half-elf struggled out of the water, weighted down by her wet garments, hurrying over to the humanoid mass in the distance. Lamya had been flung at least thirty feet away from where she'd been seated, and she could hear the pitiful gurgling before she even reached her. A short, thick branch had embedded in Lamya's throat and blood spread down her chest. Her pink eyes wide as she held one hand against the wood. Roshanara, horrified, knelt at her side and pulled her up into her lap and racked her brain for any sort of spell she knew to end this. Nothing came. She knew of no way to heal her and she rocked back and forth with the drow in her arms with tears splashing onto her face. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, please..."

The gurgling slowly began to cease. "Lamya, I love you. I'm so sorry, please. Don't...don't..."

Looking down, Lamya had stopped moving. Her eyes remained open and Roshanara could no longer bare to look down at them. She pressed her palm over Lamya's eyes, hiding them from her view, sobbing over her while he blood soaked through the skirt she wore. She didn't remember screaming, but when she'd stopped her throat felt torn and frail. She realized the uneasiness of the day had faded and yet a new sense of unease washed over her. Roshan had to move her hand. She could not sit this way forever. Her hands began to gently pry the branch from Lamya's throat, though they shook with her sobs, but the bark was so smooth. It felt too unnatural to be from any of the nearby trees. When she'd finally freed it, she saw in her hands the neck of her lute.

For a moment there was silence save for the prestidigitation music she'd made for her song.

Without even realizing it, she was on her feet. She was hurling fireballs in every direction hoping the trees would catch fire. Her screams echoed out to the surrounding area. Eventually people came running from Gilan, horrified to find Roshan in her current state. Misunderstanding only served to make matters worse.

"She fought a drow!"

"She killed a dark elf!"

They began praising her for her skills. They gathered her up and carted her home. Later, someone brought her the pieces of her lute which another sorcerer had mended for her. She couldn't even see where it had broken anymore. As if it had always been whole. But the blood stain remained. The memory of Lamya's unmoving eyes remained. In the distance she heard the last few notes of her spell end. The pan pipes and drums stopped at the same time. One whole hour. Her entire world turned upside down in less than an hour. People who had spent her entire life hating her now praised her for something she loathed having done. Though she did not know it, the drow were furious for having lost one of their own. It only took a couple of days before she packed away her things and fled. She hesitated on the lute, but her eyes lingered on the stain at the neck of the instrument. It was all she had left of her dark elf. Her fingers closed around it and she shut the door behind her.

She would travel. As far as she needed until she could feel this all slip away into a bad dream. Until no one knew what she'd done and would stop throwing it in her face like a trophy she had won. Roshanara could only meditate if she played Lamya's song first at night. She'd never even managed to finish it for her. Many times she considered tossing the lute into a fire or simply smashing it, but the stain always held her gaze. She'd always recall the soft braids and the gentle kiss on her cheeks. Though she no longer had Lamya, the lute has remained her companion for these two years since.

**Author's Note:**

> Lamya - drow - age 20 - name meaning "having beautiful dark lips" - Arabic name - Class: Bard  
> Roshanara "Roshan" - age 20 - name meaning(s) "light of the assembly" and "light/bright" - Persian names - Class: Wild Magic Sorcerer
> 
> Backstory for my character in 5th edition. The campaign has since concluded, but it was for the Ravenloft story line.


End file.
